


Extra-Curricular Activity

by InfiniteSeahorse



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22917481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteSeahorse/pseuds/InfiniteSeahorse
Summary: Ravio hates P.E. He thinks team sports are a waste of time, his classmates are rude, and his teacher has it out for him. That said, he's not opposed to some physical education from his boyfriend, Link, in the showers after class.
Relationships: Link/Ravio (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	Extra-Curricular Activity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tirare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirare/gifts).



> I was inspired to write this after seeing Tirare's genius drawings of Link and Ravio dressed in gym uniforms. This one's for you-- I hope you like it!

Ravio watched from the bleachers as his gym teacher passed out balls to the students who had gathered into teams for half-court basketball. He was going to get a zero in participation for the day, but he didn’t care. It was Friday; the class had started the basketball unit on Monday, and he had tried to play along to the best of his ability for four whole exhausting class periods. It turned out giving it his all in this sport ended the same way as making an effort in flag football, field hockey, volleyball, and relay races did— with a lot of tears, scraped knees, and eventual zeros in participation.

Ravio hated P.E. and he was pretty sure his teacher hated him. Why else wouldn’t he let him and Link be on the same team any more? Mr. Sahasrahla, who went by Mr. S on account of his hard-to-pronounce, easy-to-make-fun-of name, was older than dirt and had been threatening to retire for years. He let plenty of atrocious behavior from the other students slide, but he seemed to keep a sharp eye out for Ravio.

“Okay boys, twin time is over. You two are on different teams. Ravio on red, Link on blue,” Mr. S had said at the beginning of class as he walked down the line of uniformed students after taking attendance. “Irene, green team. Hilda, orange.”

“We’re not twins! We’re—” Ravio had elbowed Link, who was leaning against him with conspicuous familiarity, sharply in the ribs before he could spill their secret. Link always had the worst timing! He hadn’t spoken more than three words strung together to a teacher all semester, and Ravio didn’t think telling the gym teacher, not to mention half the class, they were dating was an appropriate way to break his silent streak.

Mr. S had kept walking, undisturbed by the outburst, and blew his whistle once he reached a large crate of basketballs. The piercing noise broke the class out of formation like dissolving a magic spell, and Ravio had taken the opportunity in the resulting chaos to sneak his way over to the bleachers. The red team was playing the blue team on the side of the gym he had been heading toward. Maybe if he sat on the lowest level, he could jump up and stand on the sidelines when Mr. S made his rounds to make it look like he was just taking a break from playing. He’d fooled him that way before, so he figured it would be worth it to try again.

The late winter chill, complete with patches of snow on the ground outside, held no authority over the temperature inside the gym. Helpless against the frigid blast of air conditioning, Ravio shivered on the metal bench, drawing his legs up to his chest and crossing his arms over his expanse of bare skin, trying in vain to shrink himself into a heat-retaining ball. His uniform, which consisted of a short-sleeved white shirt and high-cut dark blue shorts, was meant to be easy to move around in and to keep him well ventilated, but had the unfortunate secondary effect of providing no insulation to a body at rest. He tugged his socks higher up his shins, wishing they stretched over his knees.

He watched his classmates run back and forth across the shiny wooden floor. The sounds of their squeaking shoes and encouraging shouts echoed around the gym and rang through the air, filling his head with a confusing cacophony of layered noise. They all seemed to understand the rules, both official and unspoken ones. They knew where to stand, and when to run, and who to pass the ball to at the right time. Ravio didn’t get it. No matter what he played, he froze or lagged behind the action, and he relied on Link to get him through the drudgery, panic and isolation he felt when he was forced to participate in team sports. His personal hero protected him from balls flying at his head, and he didn’t mind when he hovered, more-or-less uselessly, around his periphery.

In the short break before switching opposing teams, Link jogged over to the bleachers and unzipped his jacket. His cheeks were pink and his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead in a thoughtless way that made Ravio want to brush it back from his face. He breathed out in hasty puffs as he offered up his unneeded item of clothing. “Since you’re not going to play, can you hold this for me? I’m too hot.”

“You are hot,” Ravio agreed with a flirtatious tilt to his eyebrow, and he received a balled-up jacket to his face.

“Thanks a million!” Link called as he returned to the game, and Ravio stuck his tongue out at his retreating back.

Ravio felt much warmer once he put on Link’s jacket. He pulled the ends of the sleeves over his hands, folded them on his knees, and rested his chin on them. Surrounded by the enticing scents of his boyfriend’s mingled sweat, deodorant, and laundry detergent, he divided his attention between admiring the way Link’s butt moved beneath the thin fabric of his shorts as he dribbled the ball around the court and making sure Mr. S wasn’t lurking nearby. P.E. was so dumb! He could think of half a dozen better ways to get exercise, all of them involving Link in some way or another, and most of them inappropriate for trying out in public. Was wrestling part of the curriculum? He’d participate in wrestling, for sure...

More than halfway through class, Ravio gave up his charade and stopped hopping up from his seat whenever Mr. S toddled by. He knew he was in for it when the teacher halted next to his spot and leveled his beady eyed gaze down at him.

“You can still get half credit for the period if you join in now,” he said with a muted edge to his voice that might have sounded more threatening twenty years ago. “One last game before the bell rings.”

Bolstered by the encouraging way Link was waving to him, Ravio reluctantly stood and stepped over the court line. Heaving a beleaguered sigh, he got into position near someone he thought was one of his teammates, and promised himself he wouldn’t get distracted by Link’s powerful and elegant movements. Hadn’t he had his fill already, spending the last twenty minutes drooling over him from the sidelines? It was hard not to pay attention to his athletically gifted boyfriend as he ran purposefully up and down the court. The focused look on his face told Ravio he was fully in his element. Now that they were opponents, he had to try to separate his affection for the boy from his need to score points for his team.

For Ravio, basketball was a full-contact sport. He got stepped on, elbowed, and bumped into by members of both teams. The resulting foul he earned garnered his team two free-throw points, and although he shot the ball through the hoop with a satisfying swish, it didn’t erase the bad mood clinging to him like a stubborn stain on his clothes. He wasn’t completely uncoordinated, he just _hated_ chasing after a stupid ball, which as far as he could tell, was all that P.E. was about. Perhaps not so surprisingly, Link was the foul’s perpetrator. He had been crowding Ravio deliberately, bumping into his behind with his crotch and breathing heavily in his ear as he froze in the corner of the court. Curled protectively around the ball with no clue what to do next, Ravio struggled against a confusing combination of rising arousal and desire to pass the ball to anyone who would take it. One last nudge sealed his fate, rocketing the basketball across the floor as Ravio fell to the floor, sprawling out painfully in an awkward heap at Link’s feet.

“Sorry about that! Guess I got a little too aggressive there.” Link held out his hand for Ravio to grab and pulled him up. “No hard feelings, right?” There was concern shining in his deep blue eyes, but Ravio turned away from his gaze to stare at the floor while he rubbed his hurt elbow. How could he not take that personally? Link was normally a perfect gentleman off the court, and it didn’t make sense to him how he could ignore his boundaries, play to his weaknesses, and fluster him like that. He shook his head dismissively and tried to concentrate on lining up his shot as he walked to the free throw line.

Five minutes before the bell rang, Mr. S’s whistle blasted across the gymnasium. It was time to get changed, and Ravio could finally stop playing this idiotic game. He stopped in his tracks when the whistle tweeted for the second time and he heard Mr. S call his name. “Ravio, Yuga, you’re on clean-up duty. Balls go in the container, and the container goes in my office,” he said over his shoulder as he walked toward the room that performed double duty as both equipment and instructor storage.

“Yeah right,” scoffed Yuga from the top of the bleachers. He’d been perched up there with two of the latest dimwits to fall under his spell, spending the entire class period gossiping and painting each other’s nails. Ravio turned his head to watch as Yuga unfolded his lanky limbs, threw his backpack over his shoulder with as much disdain as he could muster, and clomped down the bleachers in a direct line toward the double doors that led to the rest of the school. His friends flanked him, scurrying to keep up with his long strides, and twittered faintly with sycophantic laughter. “Mr. S can get bent. Have fun chasing balls by yourself, loser.” The doors slammed shut behind them, leaving Ravio alone to gather stray basketballs until the bell rang.

Having P.E. at the end of the day was the only good thing about the class, Ravio thought as he stalked into the locker room. He could take his time getting dressed without having to be worried about being late to his next class. His frustration melted and his confidence rose with every step he took as he realized that the room was empty, save for Link.

His boyfriend, still clothed in his gym uniform, sat on a bench at the far end of a row of lockers. He had abandoned whatever he was searching for in the backpack propped open at his feet in order to watch Ravio strut down the aisle toward him.

“Were you waiting for this?” Ravio asked, sliding his hands suggestively over the jacket he was still wearing, and unzipped it slowly as he kept walking.

One side of Link’s face twisted into a thoughtful smile as he responded, “I couldn’t leave you alone after Mr. S made you clean up. And I wanted to apologize again for knocking you over.”

“You want to apologize?” Ravio stood in front of Link and peeled the jacket off his arms, then dropped it on top of the backpack. “You better think long and hard about how you’re going to make it up to me.” He pushed Link’s backpack to the side and sat down in his lap.

“You’re coming on awful strong. Where’s all this confidence coming from?” Link asked with a hint of wonder in his voice.

“We’re all alone in here. And since I sat out most of the period, I have a lot of energy to burn.” Ravio scooted back until he hit Link’s chest, then supported himself against Link’s long legs as he wiggled his ass further into his lap. Link gripped his waist, halting his movement, and breathed out in a shuddering rush. “Oh gosh, am I distracting you from your thoughts? Is it difficult for you to get changed when I’m in your way?”

He must have been distracting enough. Link sat in tense silence for several moments, fingers twitching against Ravio’s hip bones, before he could reply. “Yeah, you are in my way. I guess I have to undress you, instead,” he said, slipping his hand under Ravio’s shirt and pulling the fabric up his chest. Ravio’s breath cut off as Link found and tweaked his sensitive nipple, forcing a high-pitched gasp from his throat in place of his next witty comment.

“I’m sorry,” Link mumbled into the taut skin of Ravio’s neck. His soft lips fluttered in time to his flicking fingers over the racing pulse point he found.

“What was that?” Ravio said between louder and louder pleased gasps.

“I said,” Link continued, worming the fingers of his free hand beneath the wide elastic waistband of Ravio’s gym shorts, “I apologize.”

“Oh,” said Ravio, drawing out the sound into overblown, exaggerated recognition. “I like the way you apologize! Yes, I accept your apology with all my heart!”

“Shhh,” Link chided, bringing his lips to Ravio’s ear and giving it a playful nibble. “I’m not finished yet.”

“I sure hope not!”

“I pushed you down, and now, I’ll help you back up.” With a low hiss of satisfaction, Link discovered Ravio’s rising excitement. “You’re already up. Maybe you don’t need any help.”

Ravio whined, “But I do! It’s never too late to help a friend!” He spread his legs wider and arched his back, inviting Link to explore further. “I need your helping hands, please!”

“Hey, keep it down,” Link whispered, suddenly aware of the amount of noise they were making. He squeezed them together in a one-armed hug. “And hold still!”

“That’s not what you said to me last Saturday,” Ravio teased, squirming in Link’s grip and twisting around so he could aim his moans directly into his ear. “I seem to remember you liked it when I did this...” He let loose with a breathy yet deep groan that sent a shiver through Link from his head to his toes. “Let’s see if I was right.” He reached back and fondled the firm length pressed against his buttcheek. “Your dick is hard!” he announced. “Are you excited?”

“Would you please shut up? I don’t want to get caught!” Despite Link’s protestations, he continued his gentle assault on Ravio’s body, working pleasure into his skin with both his hands and mouth.

Ravio’s volume level rose again. “You don’t want to get caught? That’s half the excitement, don’t you think?”

Link shook his head, brushing his hair against the side of Ravio’s face. “Let’s take it to the showers.”

“Won’t that make more noise?”

“The sound of running water will drown you out, with any hope. And besides, people are supposed to shower after P.E. We’ll be less likely to get walked in on in there.”

Listening to Link’s proposition while being coaxed to quivering rigidity by the hand moving in lazy, teasing strokes within the cramped quarters of his gym shorts was one too many tasks for Ravio’s poor brain to pay attention to. He knew, however, it would feel even better if they ditched their clothes and took advantage of the relative seclusion of the showers, so he stood, wiggling his ass in Link’s face, then pulled his shirt over his head and flung it in the general direction of his locker. “Race you there!”

Ravio’s pounding footsteps echoed through the tiled expanse of the empty shower room, and he stopped at its entrance to remove his shoes and socks. The entire area was visible from where he stood, from the poorly maintained, dripping shower heads sprouting just above head height around the room’s perimeter, to the multiple drains set in intervals along the floor, to the buzzing fluorescent lights that illuminated the whole room in a sickly yellowish hue.

“I didn’t know you were so competitive,” Link said, barefoot though otherwise fully clothed, as he caught up to Ravio.

Turning to Link with a twinkle in his eye, Ravio said, “I’m not. But here’s a game I think you’ll win. Wet t-shirt contest!” He lunged at the nearest shower handle, turning the water on full blast as he simultaneously shoved Link into the pelting spray. Link’s surprised shout ended in a spluttering gurgle of success as he latched onto Ravio’s wrist and prepared to yank him under. Ravio resisted for a moment, so he could appreciate Link’s wet body from arm’s length before joining in. He was the only person he knew who didn’t look like a drowned rat when he got soaked, which was unfair when he thought about how similar they looked to one another. His flimsy white shirt became translucent where it absorbed the water, and the fabric of his uniform clung obscenely to his body, illuminating every line, curve, and bulge on his slim frame from his shoulders to the tops of his thighs. 

“Wowie-wow, you’re hot,” Ravio said, hunger replacing the joking tone he had used in his earlier compliment.

“No I’m not, I’m cold!” exclaimed Link with a shiver. “You threw me in here before the water warmed up!”

“I guess that means it’s my turn to apologize!” Ravio replied as he pressed his ravenous, wanting body against as much of Link as he could reach. The water lent them a protective cover of camouflaging background noise as they not-so-silently kissed. It was pretty much impossible for Ravio to be quiet in most situations, and even when his mouth was full of Link’s searching tongue, he managed to make his pleasure heard.

He found himself being gently but resolutely guided backward. When his back touched the cold tile wall, he gasped, and when his lover pushed their hips together, increasing the delicious combination of friction and wetness in a slow grind that never failed to drive him crazy, he moaned with shameless abandon. This was a much more appropriate venue to reduce him to a pile of lustful nerves, and Ravio gladly accepted Link’s aggressive treatment now.

Ravio passed his hands over Link’s firm posterior and remembered that they were still wearing their gym uniforms. He tugged at Link’s waistband, trying to get the message across to disrobe, and gave himself a mental high-five when Link stepped back into the full force of the water. They stripped off their remaining pieces of clothing with all haste, and Ravio laughed when he and Link moved their hands in tandem to grope at each other’s freed erections. 

Before he even realized he was thinking, words escaped his mouth as he looked down at the skillful hand massaging him. “Balls look good in your hands. Big balls, small balls, basketballs, baseballs, my balls…”

“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna—”

“Come?” interrupted Ravio, and Link groaned, whether in frustration, which was likely, or in enjoyment, which was a more hopeful answer, as Ravio had just performed his go-to trick of rubbing his thumb gently back and forth over his frenulum. Link didn’t try to talk back. He threaded the fingers of his hand that wasn’t attending to Ravio’s dick into the hair above the nape of his neck and kissed him deeply. The erratic spray of the shower kept hitting their faces as they moved and made it difficult to get enough air, so they were forced to separate, breathing heavily through their mouths, putting just enough space between them to let the water run down their skin in uninterrupted rivulets.

 _Every moment that passes is a moment we might get walked in on_ , whispered a voice in the back of Ravio’s mind. The thought spurred him to move his hand faster, and a new rivalry emerged, one in which they encouraged one another to hasten their end. Their bodies tightened, inching closer to release, and as Ravio locked eyes with Link, he knew, from the organ twitching a warning in his hand and the coil of pleasure preparing to spring free in his gut, they were going to come _together_ —

 _it was a tie_ —

and their sounds of gratification mingled with the obscuring gurgle of water swirling down the drain.

“We forgot to bring soap with us,” said Ravio once he caught his breath and his wits returned. He stepped away from Link and angled his body into the shower’s stream, ready to wash off the evidence of their extra-curricular activity.

“Also towels,” Link noted, stooping to gather and wring out the sodden clothes left on the floor.

“Good thing we took a shower before we got changed.” Ravio wasn’t sure what he said made any sense as he turned off the water and walked back to the locker room with Link, but his companion didn’t ask for clarification. He decided to keep talking, allowing his flow of words to cover the remnants of his awkwardness. “I’ll let you knock me over in class any time, as long as I get an apology like that again!”

Link laughed. “You say that like you have a choice! I bet I could get you on the ground without even touching you,” he said, throwing a damp arm around his shoulders.

The rattle of keys and a series of dry coughs announced the gym teacher’s return as the two boys changed into their street clothes. “Anyone in here? I’m locking up, so best get out while you can!”

“I guess Mr. S cut his nap short,” whispered Ravio as he stuffed his wet clothes into his backpack. “I hope we didn't wake him from his well-deserved rest!” Link smothered a laugh, and they walked side-by-side down the aisle of lockers, close enough for the backs of their hands to brush against each other. Under the watchful eye of Mr. S, Ravio resisted the impulse to grab Link's hand. He was giddy with secret, shared knowledge. They had gotten away with it! Old Mr. S had no clue!

“Have a good weekend, boys,” said their teacher, standing by the door with nearly exhausted patience seeping from every wrinkle in his aged body.

“You too!” they chirped in unison, making a beeline for the outside world.

Moments from freedom, Link turned around to address Mr. S, who was struggling to choose one among a handful of identical keys on his lanyard with which to lock the door, and to Ravio's horror said, “You know we're not twins, right?” 

The old man nodded, still facing the locker room door. “Just like I know you two weren't getting clean in the showers. Now scram before I write you up,” he said gruffly.

Blue eyes met green in a shared glance of momentary panic, and the two youths hightailed it out of the gym at top speed.

“You don't think he was bluffing, do you?” Ravio asked once they were safely outside. A cold breeze blew, chilling his damp hair and the tips of his ears. He’d forgotten to bring his hat to school today.

Link didn't look half as frightened as Ravio felt, and with outsized confidence he replied, “I don't know, but here's hoping he forgets all about it by Monday!”


End file.
